Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.
AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, it really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to the amazingly talented purpleplasticpurse for beta reading!
Warning: dark&twisty/ some parts might be trigger-ish
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XXXVII
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Secrets I Will Not Confess
(The Color In Anything/Drunk I)
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Getting drunk on a Wednesday night isn't what Emily had in mind when she left her apartment.
Yet here she is, way past the point of rational thinking, or the ability to fucking walk. Sadly, she's still not drunk enough to pass out.
It's that awful in-between feeling, where she's just coherent enough to keep talking, but unable to control what she's actually saying. There's nothing more dangerous than this.
She longs for another shot, another beer -another whatever- just to drive herself over the edge and shut the fuck up.
Sarah keeps shaking her head, dragging her out of the house and over the lawn.
"You've had enough, Emily. You have classes tomorrow. You promised me you wouldn't get drunk tonight."
Sarah sounds annoyed, but Emily is too. She doesn't need a fucking babysitter. She needs a friend. Someone who understands.
"I am your friend, and I do understand. But this is getting out of hand," Sarah mutters and Emily wonders how she hasn't noticed she was talking out loud.
"Because you're wasted, that's why."
Emily frowns, stumbling. She feels herself fall, pulling Sarah down with her.
Yet she doesn't hit the ground because someone catches her with ease. She knows it's him, even though her eyes are closed.
Sarah must have called him.
Fuck.
"Yes, I called your way too old for you FBI guy. I have to study. I can't deal with you tonight."
Maybe Sarah isn't just annoyed, maybe she's angry too.
"Damn right I'm angry! You fucking promised!"
Emily frowns. She rests her head against Aaron's chest as his arms close around her waist. She hates how comfortable she feels when he holds her like that.
"Make sure she doesn't finish what she started," Sarah mutters, and Emily can feel his whole body grow tense.
"I don't think I understand."
"Of course not," Sarah sneers. "How could you?" There's a long pause, before she adds, "Just keep an eye on her, please. I really can't do it myself tonight."
"I think you really pissed her off," Aaron tells her as soon as the sound of Sarah's heels disappears.
Probably.
Aaron supports most of her weight while they walk to his car. Emily keeps her head against his chest and her eyes closed, his familiar scent makes her knees go weak. Without thinking she slurs, "Your aftershave is making me dizzy." Aaron chuckles. "Does that mean you like it or that I need to get a different one?"
"Keep it," she mumbles, wondering if Sarah had woken him up. "Does your wife know where you are?"
"Haley's out of town visiting her parents," Aaron answers. "I was still held up at work when Sarah called."
When they reach his car he helps her in, fastening the seat belt for her. His worried expression blurs in front of her eyes.
The car ride feels endless. Maybe she's just imagining it, or maybe he's driving extra slowly in case she gets sick.
"Are you alright?" He wants to know and Emily forces herself to nod. She bites her lip, knowing full well that if she starts talking now, she won't ever be able to stop. The last thing she needs is him knowing any more than he already does.
By the time he parks his car in front of her apartment building, Emily's longing for another drink. Just one. Maybe two.
"I'm beginning to understand what Sarah was talking about," Aaron notes when he helps her out of the car and up the stairs. It's not making any sense, until Emiy realizes she's still rambling.
By the time they reach her door he has her keys ready and Emily faintly wonders why. As soon as he opens it, she staggers out of his hold, making those last few steps by herself, slipping out of her heels before she sinks down onto the mattress.
With her head on her pillow, she keeps watching him move through her apartment. He gets her a glass of water first and a waste bin second, and Emily finds herself wishing he would just leave her the fuck alone.
"What happened today?" He wants to know when he reaches for the blanket to tuck her in. Emily wonders how he can stand looking at her.
"Please, talk to me," he says, sitting down next to her. He reaches to brush a strand of hair from her face, careful and gentle, and Emily feels like crying.
She can't tell him anything.
Even if she wanted to, she can't.
If she does, he won't look at her the same way ever again. What's worse is she might not want him to look at her at all.
"You need to leave," Emily mutters, pushing his hands away with as much force as she can mange in her drunken state.
Aaron looks taken aback, at least that's what she thinks, his expression all blurry when she opens her eyes.
"I'm not going to leave you alone."
"Stop playing the hero," she mumbles, closing her eyes and willing the damn room to stop spinning.
Aaron answers something she doesn't quite catch. Maybe it's better that way.
She doesn't know how to do this. She's never had to. She doesn't know how to handle those feelings, isn't even sure what they mean. And he doesn't need to handle any of that either, because he's married after all.
And this surely was against every rule Haley had in mind when she came to talk to her a year ago.
"Why did you come and get me?" Emily slurs, wondering what Sarah told him that made him leave work so quickly.
"Someone had to," he tells her straightforwardly and Emily wishes she had the energy to roll her eyes at him.
"You should stay away from me," she mumbles. "Before it's too late."
"You keep saying that," Aaron notes. His voice is awfully calm. "I wonder why."
Emily chuckles. "Because if you don't," she slurs, forcing herself to open her eyes again. "I'll just fuck up your life too."
He's still sitting at her side, an expression on his face that makes her. feel utterly uncomfortable. It's like he's already figured her out, like he already knows what she isn't saying.
"You really need to go," she tries again. "Please, Aaron. Just go."
This isn't getting any better now, Emily already knows. She remembers the bottle of wine in her fridge- it'll be just enough to get her head to shut up.
I will deal with this tomorrow.
"What happened today," Aaron asks her again, sounding awfully concerned, and Emily wishes he would just stop.
"Go home."
She's not entirely sure why she keeps trying. She already knows that no matter what she does, he won't leave.
She feels the need to throw something. Or scream. Or do both. Maybe she should.
Her frustration turns to anger and then rage, fast and overwhelming. Before she knows it, her hands are balled into fists.
"Emily," he starts, his voice achingly understanding when she sits up fast. Lashing out blindly, her fists hit his chest with all the strength she has left.
"Why can't you just leave?" She yells, wishing not for the first time she never met him to begin with. "You changed everything!"
"Emily, stop-"
Her name sounds so different when he's the one saying it, and Emily feels tears burn in her eyes. A wave of sadness rolls over her so fast she's barely able to breathe.
"I don't know how to do this," she cries desperately, her fists still hitting his chest. "I don't know how to fucking love you!"
When she realizes what she just said it's too late because by the time she does, she's already sobbing.
She's barely ever cried, not even as a child. The first lesson she was taught by her mother not to fucking cry. To always keep her emotions under control.
She always had. She mastered it to the point of perfection. But now she doesn't know how to handle anything anymore. It's all too much, everything.
Is that what love does?
"Stop it, Emily," Aaron pleads one more time, his hands finally closing around her wrists to stop her, gentle but firm. She's so dizzy he appears to be spinning along with the room.
When he pulls her into his arms, she lets him. There's nothing else to do.
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Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.
